


What Ripper Wants

by witchway



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Giles/Xander - Freeform, M/M, Xander/Giles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:58:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: We tend to forget - Rupert "Ripper" Giles is also a magician.  One who doesn't...……..always...……..follow the rules.





	1. What Rupert Saw

**Title:** What Rupert Saw

 **Rated:** R for many uses of the word 'fuck'

 **Warnings:** Later there will be references to off-stage cutting.

 

 

 **What Giles Saw**  
\------------------------------  
Giles was here for one reason.

Angel’s relationship with Buffy had to end.

She was 16 years old. Angel wasn’t just an older man, he was an infinitely older man. Angel could offer no future to her. In addition, he was undead. Giles was waiting at Angel’s home to tell him to end it.

He was armed with a stake and a crossbow in the event the vampire planned to argue the point.

But when the door opened Giles hid from the last person he expected to see.

Xander was limping. Angel closed the door behind him, then offered him an arm. Then the taller man picked the boy up and carried him to the single bed.

Giles stood silent in the shadows. _Xander_ certainly was not to be a part of this conversation. But since Angel didn’t notice the watcher’s presence, Giles would simply hold off the conversation until the young man left. All he had to do was remain in his hiding place until then.

He was a _little_ surprised to see Xander there. Listening to the banter between the so-called ‘Scoobies’ Xander still didn’t trust ‘Dead Boy.’

Certainly not enough to come to his apartment. Certainly not enough to let Angel pick him up off his feet and sit the young man on his bed. 

Certainly not enough to let Angel take his sweat pants off to examine his wounds.

“I TOLD you it’s fine, Ange. I just strained the old spot from last week. I’ll be fine by morning. Chill, big guy.”

There was more talk, but too low for Giles to hear. He took a few silent steps until he could see…

Xander was sitting on the bed, his shirt torn, his legs bare, his smile wide. Angel was on his knees in front of him, also smiling. Angel’s hands were massaging Xander’s upper thigh and Xander was leaning in for a kiss…..

Now _that_ was not a little surprise.

Giles didn’t move from where he was standing. There was no point in confronting the two before his brain raced through _all_ the possibilities, and there were so many.

Magic? There were love-spells that were relatively easy to do, if you had access to the right books. They didn't take much talent, really, and Angel could have used one to lure Xander here, but to what purpose?

A Bloodclaim? If Xander had fed Angel while he was wounded the boy’s head would be turned with obsessive thoughts of the vampire. But that was improbable; Bloodclaims were notoriously short-lived. They dissolved at the first burst of adrenaline - such as the one Xander _must_ have experienced in the fight tonight. That only left…

A trick from the famously manipulative Angelus? But again, to what purpose?

He took a silent step back. If they got very involved with each other Giles would simply slip through the door. If Xander was involved with Angel of his own free will, well, that solved Giles' problem with Angel and the girl under his charge.

Xander was not, after all, his responsibility. No matter his personal feelings toward the boy, he was not in a position to argue if Xander found himself attracted to the undead.

“So are you going to fuck me or not?” the boy who was not at all his responsibility was asking.

“Fuck you……what?” the vampire replied.

“Fuck me…….please?”

Giles turned slowly, his eyes narrowed. He reached for his stake.

“Try again.”

“Fuck me……. a lot?” Xander teased, avoiding the words Angel so obviously wanted to hear. Giles moved until he had full view of Angel’s broad back. It had been a while since he had taken a vampire out with a single blow from behind, but he had no doubts he could do it now. After all, they didn’t call him “The Ripper” for nothing.

“Fuck me……tender fuck me true?” Xander was whispering now. Angel was still kneeling in front of the young man whose leg bare leg was now moving up and down slowly, apparently stroking a spot in between Angel’s legs. Giles waited patiently, curious as to how long the manipulative vampire would let the boy play before complying with the order.

But Giles had no doubt what would come next. “Fuck me, sir.” or “Fuck me, master.” Ethan had played this game with more than a few young men in his time, men who would have sworn that they were there voluntarily (but it’s not very hard to convince the younger men it’s all THEIR idea, is it Ripper?) But Xander wasn't here voluntarily. The wide-eyed brown-eyed boy (the boy who was NOT his responsibility) that bragged his way through the Scoobies Meetings did NOT volunteer to be in a Master/Servant relationship - no. Not without magic or notorious manipulation. Mentally Giles judged the length of the stake as he raised it - it was long enough to go completely through the vampire's body, he would have to be careful not to spear Xander when it came out the other side......

Angel was rising from his position on the floor. Xander pulled back, leaning on his elbows, edging further across the bed. Giles tensed, ready to strike. Xander wouldn’t be very happy to have his erstwhile lover disintegrated between his feet, but he’d have Giles there to comfort him. Giles who might not mind kneeling at that same young man’s feet, feeling that teasing foot caress him between his legs, watching that smiling face ask for simple favors that Giles had been, he might as well admit, fantasizing about for some time now.

“Say my name,” Angel was whispering as he stalked the boy, maneuvering his body to hover over Xander’s. Giles took another step forward.

Xander took Angel’s face in both his hands, combing his fingers through the black hair and holding the other man’s forehead to his forehead.

“Fuck me, Liam.”

Giles froze in his tracks.

“Fuck me Liam Campbell, scourge of Ireland. Fuck me blind you moody, broody, fucking poofta!”

As the two tumbled down into the single bed Giles disappeared as silently as he came.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------


	2. What Rupert Did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did you assume Giles has been celibate this whole time? And if he HAD been, why do you assume he had been happy about it?

**Chapter 2 "What Rupert Did"**

**Rating:** This is the tame part - the M rating is to come!  
 **Trigger Warning:** In the future, discussion of off-stage self-harm (cutting.)

 

When Angel was fucking him it was like…..it was like actions in a comic that could only be described through jagged word bubbles filled with words like “crack” and “pow” and the like.

Unfortunately, the arguments were pretty much the same.

Xander dressed in haste and left in silence. He was shaking, he was so angry, but he was beyond words now. There was simply nothing to say.

Mostly because he didn’t completely understand what they had been arguing about.

In the alley outside Angel’s small apartment Xander walked away with drooping shoulders. 

Sometimes, _sometimes_ , all their problems seemed _almost_ solvable. Like an algebra assignment he understood, and COULD have finished (if he hadn’t been busy killing vampires the night before.) Or a book he actually liked and would have finished (if only his parents weren’t so busy beating each other up downstairs.) Or a B- he could have made if only that great English teacher were still around to explain that ONE thing, look at that ONE paper and tell him what he did wrong. (But that nice English teacher moved back to New Orleans when some of the students ate the principal.) 

So that was Xander’s life in a nutshell. His current boyfriend, his ONLY boyfriend, the ONLY relationship he had ever had, ever, was like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch, a concept he could quite grasp. His whole life, now, was like waiting for a sneeze. (When they were talking. There were **no** problems when they were fucking. Could they just fuck all the time and never talk? Was that allowed?)

“I need advice,” he said to himself ruefully, to the empty alleyway, to the whoever was following him just now. “Where does one go to for advice when one is dating a vampire? Can I look that one up in the yellow pages? What do **you** think?” 

That last he shouted over his shoulder at the someone who was following him. Like that sneeze that wouldn’t quite happen, this someone was really getting on his nerves.

“If you have something to contribute, please say so, but I’ve got to warn you, I’m not in the mood. I’m drunk, but I’m not in the mood.” 

The someone stepped out of the shadows and approached.

“Let me guess…..you’re NOT a sex-therapist for human-vamp relationships.”

“Not as such, although I happen to know that they exist. But they are not, as you suggested, findable in the yellow pages.”

“G-Giles?!"

“I’m told you’re more likely to find them in L.A.”

“Holy fuck…..”

“Well, ‘unholy,’ but yes, that’s the idea. Human and non-human relationships are a lot more common that you would imagine.” 

“What…what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Angel.”

“About what?”

“About you.” Giles was standing directly in front of him now, and when Xander started to make an excuse he put a firm, calm hand on Xander’s shoulder.

“Yeah…Angel…. so......yeah...….I was just in the neighborhood and.....and so I thought…..”

“It’s all right, Xander, _I know._ My car is right over there; let me take you back to my apartment and ….”

“Oh, no, I need to go home.”

“It’s 2 a.m, Xander. I know you don’t return home on nights like this.”

The hand on Xander’s shoulder was steady, the look in the Watcher’s eye, caring. Still, perhaps out of habit, Xander attempted to dissemble. 

“No, I’m fine, I usually just…..”

“Come back with me, Xander. You can, what do you say, ‘crash’ on my couch. You don’t want to go home like this….” he said, placing gentle fingertips on two tell-tale puncture wounds on Xander’s neck, just barely covered by the collar of his sweatshirt.

Xander jumped at the touch on the still-sensitive flesh. His body broke out in gooseflesh and his cock jumped to completely inappropriate attention (but maybe in the dark, Giles would never notice?) His mouth hung open stupidly even as he tried to hide it….SO much had happened in the last hour….how did he forget that he and Angel had......

“I got in…..yeah I got in a scrape back at……yeah, I……”

“Xander,” Giles corrected gently, and his face was so close Xander absurdly thought of it as "kissing distance." The Watcher’s hand moved down to touch Xander’s shoulder as he tried to make himself stop babbling. 

“It’s all right, Xander. You’re a big boy, now. A grown man, by many culture’s standards. You don’t have to explain yourself.

“There’s an easy fix for that, you know. The mark. Come back with me and I’ll take care of it.”

“How….how long have you known?” Xander said stupidly, whispering in his surprise, trying futilely to cover the mark with the stretched-out collar of the sweatshirt.

“Come back with me, Xander,” Giles whispered back. The older man was standing so close, and speaking so low, it occurred to Xander that someone watching might think that the Watcher was trying to seduce him. 

Laughing helplessly at his own mental joke, looking steadily down at his feet to avoid the Watcher’s eyes, he reached out to take the older man’s arm in consent. He was more than a little surprised when Giles put a steadying arm around Xander’s shoulders and led him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a finished piece - I will be posting two more chapters next week.
> 
> Comments appreciated, obviously. I would LOVE to hear theories about what is happening/will happen next (to make sure I'm making my point.) These kinds of comments helped a great deal with the first publication of this story.


	3. What Ripper Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rupert learns about the "Magic Cock" and what it can, and cannot, fix.

**Chapter 3**

 

 **Title:** What Rupert Wanted

 **Rated:** PG-13 because the "R" part is coming next

 **Warnings:** References to off-stage cutting.

 

“So you were serious, about getting advice on human-demon relationships?” Xander was sitting on the Watcher’s couch, a place that felt a hundred times homier than home, listening to dishes clink in the kitchen. Giles was, no doubt, making him tea. The conversation was going in directions he could never have imagined, and it seemed as if, amazingly enough, Giles was completely comfortable with the fact that Xander had been fucking their local vampire-with-a-soul. 

Then again, this WAS a Night of Impossible Things. As Giles explained something about humans in relationships with non-humans throughout history and literature, he put a glass of something in front of Xander that Xander downed before he even registered that Giles had just given him alcohol.

“….but as for relationship _advice_ ,” Giles had said as he walked around the couch to sit down next to Xander, “That’s more of a 20th century concept.”

“So….what DID they do, the mixed couples?” Xander asked, looking up at Giles, who was still standing, as if waiting for something.

Giles sat his glass of bourbon next to Xander’s, but continued to stand. “Well, they tended to live short lives, Xander. A short, violent life doesn’t usually require much couples therapy. There isn’t time.”

“Are you going to sit down?”

“I was going to give you some advice on this,” he replied, reaching down to touch the mark on Xander’s throat, once again giving Xander chills (and thrills in all the wrong places.) “I was also going to relieve you of your sweatshirt.”

Without thinking Xander shrugged out of said, which Giles pulled off of him and carelessly tossed onto a chair before sitting down beside Xander, putting his right arm on the back of the couch, and using his left hand to touch the crook of Xander’s elbow.

“I also wanted to give you advice about this,” he said quietly, touching the bandage there.

Xander slumped back into the couch and hung his head.

“Is there anything you _don’t_ know about my private life?”

Giles laughed gently in reply. Taking his glasses off and laying them on the table, he wrapped the arm that was on the back of the couch lightly around Xander’s shoulders. He leaned in as he spoke, placing his left hand again on Xander’s arm, leaving Xander to wonder, as best he could…..had he ever been this close to Giles before tonight?

“I was wondering if this is how it started,” Giles was asking, indicating the bandage on the crook of Xander’s elbow. “Your relationship with Angel.”

Xander nodded miserably. He didn’t look at Giles as he explained it, how nightly patrols and fights with bad guys, along with the _normal_ amount of bleeding that came with being a Scooby, helped relieve tension that sometimes built up inside his body, how sometimes the fights were _too_ easy (with Buffy dusting the bad guys too quickly) leaving nothing but the cutting to let out the pain. Xander was more than a little surprised at how easy it was to explain. 

Giles already seemed to know, was not at all alarmed, seemed, in fact, to understand perfectly. 

He was also apparently stroking Xander’s hair with the hand that had been around his shoulder.

Xander looked up at him blearily. He was exhausted and overwrought and a little drunk …. but was he also hallucinating?? 

“Oh, forgive me,” Giles said, indicating the strange movement of the hand (but not moving it away.) “I was just thinking. In India it is tradition for the male to mourn the dead by shaving off his hair. It’s a type of purging … to shave off the grief, as it were, and cast it away. As many native cultures believed ‘evil spirits’ could escape the body if the body was only cut open for a while. It’s a common practice - almost instinctual, if you will."

Xander hoped he wasn’t staring at Giles in flat disbelief, but he probably was. Under the safety of the Watcher’s hands, on the safety of his couch and wrapped in the warm blanket of those understanding words, admitting to the most shameful part of his life suddenly seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do. But hearing the vastly intelligent man explaining to him _that it was completely normal_ made no sense at all. 

And also, Giles was still lovingly stroking his hair.

Swallowing hard, Xander tried to speak. There was something going on here, something he didn’t get. But that hand was STILL playing with his hair and those eyes were STILL looking deeply into his .....if he was smart enough he would figure it out, but right now, as best as he could tell, Giles was putting the moves on him.

“So….you said you knew .....something I could do with…..about the bite…so it won’t show?”

Xander shuddered as Giles fingered the too-sensitive spot on his neck, and, this time, he knew that Giles knew it. He even allowed himself to lean against the strong, solid body as the older man spoke. 

“That was just a ruse. A ruse to get you out of the alley, I’m afraid. I had to be sure we were out of Angel’s earshot…..vampires have very good hearing.

“There IS an old Watcher fix to heal a bite, an herbal treatment that might make it heal a little faster than antibiotic ointment and a clean bandage. But I’m surprised Angel didn’t offer you a quick fix himself. Or did he?”

Xander looked up blankly.

“The bite marks? And the cuts?” Giles asked, his strong hand going back to touch Xander’s arm at the crook. “Did Angel ever offer his blood to make them heal quicker?” 

“Just…..I mean……just the first time. I made a mistake and I was bleeding too much and he smelled it and thought I needed rescuing and…..I mean he thought he was saving me but…..and it was just a little .......and we never did again but…..was that bad?”

Giles sighed, and his breath was warm on Xander’s face, making him suddenly very aware of something important…..the smell of Giles. Not that familiar scent of soap or the tweed of his jacket or the recent consumption of bourbon, the very GILES smell of him, both solid and safe but strong and a little dangerous at the same time.

“But he drank from you too…..the night he found you cutting……when was it?”

Xander felt helpless and stranded and comforted all at once, here in the solid and reassuring arms of the man who knew all his secrets.

“It was about three weeks ago, when we killed those vamp girls in Eastview Cemetery. We’ve been dating since then. If you can call it dating since……I mean we can’t hardly go out in public and we don’t exactly go for dinner and dancing together and when we ARE together we’re either fucking or fighting or….sorry…..”

“Let me guess, it was very intense at first, the emotions, the sexual contact. The feeling that you were in each other’s heads, that he could recognize your soul….and you his, I suppose, since he has one. Were you finishing each other’s sentences, dreaming each other’s dreams?”

“Giles,” Xander begged, almost sobbed (while resisting the urge to snuggle into the man’s arms and weep.) “How do you know all this?”

“What you’ve experienced is called a Bloodclaim, Xander,” Guiles said gently, tenderly. Boldly putting his arms around Xander he explained the inherent blood magic that a vampire could work without trying, simply by feeding from a human regularly that continued to live, creating an intense, but temporary, bond between them that was both psychic and physical, a type of thrall that would keep the human coming back for more, a thrall that the vampire could extend by offering up his own blood.

“But he didn’t….” Xander whispered into the Watcher’s shoulder (no more pretending, he WAS physically leaning against Giles now.) “And he barely had any of my blood, just what was on his hands and on my arm….there was a whole jar of it…..I always bleed into a pint jar so I know I’m not bleeding too much and…..and he took me back to his apartment and we never talked about it, the jar of blood that I left in my room. I just buried it the next day like I always do. You would think that he would have wanted it…..”

“Xander, I need to ask you a very intimate question, and I need you to tell me the truth.” Giles was sitting up, pulling away enough to look Xander in the face, one hand firm and reassuring on Xander’s shoulder, the other hand cupping his cheek.

“YES, Giles, we fucked like bunnies that night. Is that what you were going to ask?”

“Well, I was going to ask ‘Is that the night you became lovers,’ but that will do. Xander, I need to know… do you believe that….”

“Oh, it wasn’t rape. Unless a 6’1 man getting down on his knees with tears in his eyes and clinging to **your** knees and begging you to fuck him is ‘rape,’ and I'm pretty sure it isn't.”

“That’s a relief,” Giles said, pulling Xander back into the embrace, where he went willingly. “But it hasn’t *just* been that, has it?”

“Giles,” Xander whimpered, almost begging the man to understand. “I was a virgin. A 17-year-old virgin who had never had a girlfriend or….. whatever…… before….and he offered and he was all experience-guy and…..and I thought we were in love…..” 

“I’m not judging you, Xander. But after a few days, your relationship began to cool down, I suspect? And lately you’ve been arguing more than anything else, getting on each other’s nerves, finding yourself more angry at him than attracted to him…..am I right?

He took a shuddering breath, almost like a sob. “It’s just not fair…..it’s like I finally have a boyfriend for the first time in my life and then I realize, oh, wait, now, I just have **another grownup** in my life telling me what I’m doing **wrong**.” Xander sat up a little and spoke angrily to the coffee table and the glasses in front of him. “And it’s like I don’t even know what we’re arguing about, and he’s always asking me, what will I do when I’m 21, what about when I’m 25, what do I want for the future…..you know, I’m lucky if I know what I’m doing _next week_ , I don’t know what to tell you about a year from now. And then he found out I’m still cutting….”

Xander paused to touch the bandage at the crook of his arm. Giles had one arm around his shoulder, and the other hand had been on Xander’s knee, but now he began to stroke the side of Xander’s arm again, in acceptance of the bandage and the reason it was there. 

“Does he understand, about the cutting?” he said quietly.

“Are you kidding? He fucking hit the roof. I thought he was going to ground me for two weeks. And I’m like, no offence big guy, but it’s not magic, you know.....you know?”

“What…..what isn’t….?”

“His cock.”

Giles looked at him, mouth agape.

“I mean, you can’t present your magic cock and just expect it to solve all my problems in one night, or even several nights. You can’t just whip it out and wave it around like a magic wand…..”

Giles struggled to hide his laughter, he truly did. But when Xander caught him at it he smiled, and soon they were both trying to hide it, as if they weren’t in the Watcher’s own apartment, sitting together alone in a dark room. Both of them laughed and tried to cover it up, until Xander’s tone turned serious again.

“But that’s not why we’re arguing, is it?” Xander asked, his breath hitching, his look defeated. “It’s because it wore off. It was all fake, getting together the way we did…. it was just the blood magic, it wasn’t real.”

“It **was** real,” Giles chided gently, “it was just temporary. Your souls **were** bonded together … for a brief moment, but now the moment is over. Like the fire you created by reading spells from the ancient books…it **was** real fire, able to burn you. But it wasn’t able to last.”

Giles was looking intently at Xander’s face, waiting for the boy to turn towards him, bring his mouth an inch closer. But Xander had one last thing to confess.

“I thought, just for a few days I thought, that if I finally had a boyfriend, even if he wasn’t human, that maybe I wasn’t such a loser.”

Soft fingers on Xander’s chin turned the trembling mouth around to his mouth. “You’ve **never** been a loser, Alexander Harris.” 

Xander knew what was coming next, and suddenly it sounded like the most logical thing in the world. He had lost his virginity less than a month ago to a drop-dead sexy vampire, **of course** his intelligent, handsome mentor would start hitting on him too. Still, he felt obliged to point out the obvious.

Boldly looking into the Watcher’s eyes Xander took the man’s hand away from his chin and, firmly, moved it to the crook of his arm. “How can you say that?" he demanded in a voice that was far more confident that he felt. "How can you say that when you know about _this?_ ” 

“Oh, yes...sorry… I meant to tell you. There is an old Watcher’s trick for that.”

“What’s that?”

Giles took Xander’s chin in his hands and drew him close. “You must keep a man with battlefield surgical training on hand at all times,” he advised, and kissed Xander on the mouth.


	4. What Ripper Took

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know Giles has been celibate for a while - why did you think he was happy about it?

Giles felt the lips part underneath his tongue, felt the body move into his embrace and yield instantly to his, eagerly molding form to form ……. from there it was very textbook. 

He permitted Xander to undress him hurriedly, graciously ignoring buttons the boy popped on his vest in his haste to get to skin. Gracefully Giles pushed the coffee table away from the couch with one foot, and soon he had guided them both to the floor, where Giles allowed Xander to quickly strip out of his pants and underwear, kicking them aside before Giles patiently took over, forcing the boy into a slower pace. 

Within a very short while Giles ascertained what Xander was expecting out of the encounter, and just as quickly reversed his expectations. Relaxed touches instead of hard ones, deep kisses instead of quick ones, leisurely penetration instead of …whatever Xander was expecting, whyever Xander was trying to bear down on his mouth-wet finger. 

With legs eagerly spread, one actually up on the couch, the younger man was whimpering in anticipation, but Rupert Giles took his time. After kissing the boy breathless Giles held him to the floor in order to explore that young, hard body with his mouth, the sensitive nipples, the ticklish ribs. Finally (and _slowly_ ) his mouth moved deliberately down the standing cock, the tight ballsac, until he was pressing kisses against the smooth perineum. He enjoyed the strangled moans of the easily-impressed boy above him, enjoyed the reactions he received when his tongue joined his single finger at the opening of Xander’s most private entrance. _Never felt a tongue here before, Xander? That’s easily remedied, but not just now. I’ll save that for next time. Wouldn’t want to use up my entire bag of tricks at once._

Easily ignoring Xander’s pleas (“Oh please Giles, oh FUCK me please Giles, no….I meant literally….” ) Giles spent many minutes lovingly fingering the tight, clinging hole, moving his expert mouth up to lavish attention to the gasping boy’s scrotum, stopping only when the poor lad started to shiver. 

“What…..what are you doing?” Xander gasped, much to the Watcher’s amusement, and he took his time answering.

“Does it feel good?”

Unable to speak, Xander only nodded.

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Can we……” Xander had to swallow twice before he could get out the question. “Can we go….. upstairs… to your bed?”

“In good time.”

Another mouth-wet finger searched Xander’s body until finding *just* the right spot to make the whimpering stop and the speechless panting begin. Xander’s twitching cock fit easily into his mouth, and with oral skills that could only come with many years in an all-boy boarding school Giles brought Xander to a shuddering climax in record time. 

Pulling back from the boy’s body Giles waited and watched carefully. Only when Xander brought his leg down from the couch and pushed it against the Watcher’s body did he reconnect with Xander’s sensitive body. Gently, ever so gently, he lay his body beside the limp boy’s body. Once again he stroked Xander’s head.

After a little talk they retreated upstairs. 

Up to his bedroom, where Giles had set the scene long in advance. 

Decorative candles on the headboard. A lighter …. How convenient! that just happened to be nearby. A decorative jar (fetched from a cabinet of course, NOT on the headboard, THAT would bad form) that was filled with gently scented oil. 

Giles sat the bottle next to the candles as an invitation. An invitation that made Xander’s chest heave, made him close his eyes, made him suddenly jump up to throw himself into the older man’s arms and hold him there with an iron grip.

“I’ll stop whenever you need me to……” Giles tried to explain, but “Don’t you DARE,” Xander growled and kissed away anything else Giles tried to say.

He lay the boy out on his bed stomach-first and ate him up like a feast, mouth tasting, teasing and nipping ass, legs and lower back, fingers steadily teasing until Xander begged, actually _begged_ for real penetration.

  
**********  


When it was over Giles held the boy close in the safety of his arms, whispering reassurances (“I’m here, I won’t let go of you, Alexander”) and compliments (“That was remarkable, amazing, no no no, you did everything right. You’re a wonder, Alexander Harris.”)

Then, like a gentleman, he brought out a damp washcloth, washcloth that lay conveniently nearby. Politely he cleaned the wide-eyed boy, offering him clean clothes to sleep in and the bed for the night. 

“I never knew you felt this way,” Xander whispered finally, snuggling back into the safety of the man’s arms and Giles, who had waited for the question all night, answered carefully.

“I’ve wanted you for a long, long time, Alexander,” Giles lied. “Since you turned 17, you’ve grown into such a fine young man….but it would be unseemly for a man my age to take advantage of a boy with no sexual experience with men.”

“But now it’s ok? I mean, since I fucked someone else first? Sorry….”

“No, it’s not that. I’ve known about Angel and yourself for the past two weeks and recently….it’s just…..” Giles stroked Xander’s face and spoke his lie quietly. “I could see the heartbreak in your eyes. “

Giles caressed Xander’s closed, ran a thumb across his lips. 

“I can’t say I brought you back here for _this_ ,” he said, lying again. “I brought you back here to tell you there’s nothing wrong with you, Xander. There’s nothing wrong with your relationship with Angel, and there’s nothing wrong with it coming to its natural end. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with the tension that builds up inside you until you need to release it.” Here his hand drifted back to the bandage on the crook of Xander’s elbow and, for the moment, he told the truth. “There are healthier ways to release it…..possibly ways that would work much better, and if you want to explore them with me, you can. 

“But mostly I brought you back here because….,” here Giles wrapped his arms around Xander’s shoulders, finally pulling the boy so close the last words lied directly on Xander’s lips. 

He lied very, very well.

“Because a Bloodclaim can be difficult to shake,” he lied. “But I can help you with that. There are magical remedies, if you allow me, that can cleanse your soul of the lingering effects in hours rather than days. If you trust me to put a spell on you, of course.”

“Oh god Giles, of course.”

They talked for a while after that. 

Giles explained how he had suspected Xander was cutting the same year they had met. (That was actually true.) 

And how he discovered the relationship between boy and vampire by accidentally observing them inside Angel’s apartment. (That, also, was true.) 

He expounded on how he had discovered the Bloodclaim by doing an inquiring spell on a forgotten piece of bloodied clothing Xander had left behind (but that was only partially true; Giles had actually used a bloodstain Xander had left on the couch and had broken into Xander’s house to acquire the clothing).

From there Giles stopped explaining and started lecturing. In a soft, quiet voice he took his time explaining the magic requirements of the inquiring spell, including its history and debatable ethics. He did this deliberately, speaking quietly and steadily until the boy was asleep.

Then he slipped out of bed, donned his bathrobe, pocketed the white washcloth that he had used to capture the proof of their joining, and went downstairs.

The battered sweatshirt he had taken from Xander he collected and he headed to the locked closet in the utility room. Xander wouldn’t miss it on the morrow: Giles planned to take the boy shopping the next day and provide him with clothing to replace it. Buying the boy clothing would serve many purposes – in addition to fixing Xander’s fashion mistakes (dear gods, but pilfering through that lad’s closet was a nightmare!) and distracting Xander from his *missing* clothing articles, well, it was easy to keep a young man’s head turned by buying him things.

Which was not to say that Angel could not compete in that arena. Rupert knew, for a fact, that the vampire could buy Xander anything he wanted. 

Which is why Rupert Giles was headed to the locked closet.

The small cabinet had once hidden a drop-down ironing board.

Now it hid a picture of one Alexander Lavelle Harris surrounded by sea salt sealed in a glass jar painted black sporting dribbles of wax from a red candle. (All the better to cut you off from bloodmagic and vamipric thralls, my dear.)

The jar was pillowed on an oddly shaped quilt made from squares of Xander’s clothing with a patch in the center cut from Rupert’s stained couch pillow….. white thread criss-crossed the fabric holding down strands of hair, dried rosemary and twisted mugwort root. (All to force you to argue constantly with that vampire who relieved you of your virginity, my dear.)

Written large across both the quilt and the jar in metallic-silver marker, meant to paint model cars, were words in Latin that any child of a Watcher could read.

_Fuge ab amante, Fuge a diabolo, Fuge ab amante, Fuge a diabolo.._

“Poor Angelus, poor Angel-faced one. You never stood a chance,” Giles whispered.

First he laid the charged white fabric, disguised as a white washcloth, holding traces of the liquids of their union, upon the active spell. Then he laid Xander’s sweatshirt tenderly over the entire pile, thus giving it that much more strength.

“Run from your demon-lover run from your demon-love refuse to see that vampiric sonofabitch again, Alexander Lavelle Harris, refuse to even speak to him again,” he chanted, almost sang, beneath his breath, then placed a kiss upon the sweatshirt.

With a grim smile he closed and locked the closet door.

Poor Angel. Xander would speak about breaking up with the vampire on the morrow, and Giles would suggest not speaking to Angel at all. It wouldn’t be good if the two of them had a conversation now. The last thing Giles wanted was for Xander to learn the _truth_ about Bloodclaims. Still, not much point in trying to talk when you can’t seem to stop fighting every time your mouth opens…..can’t seem to stop not matter how hard you try, can you, vampire? Poor, poor little Angel. 

Giles smiled at his own private joke and returned to the bed where the luscious (if clueless) Xander lay sleeping the sleep of the innocent. Exactly when he had noticed that Xander was actually an attractive male he could not say. Certainly it was *before* the boy went to bed with the vampire, (but not much before). Certainly Angel staking his claim on Xander hadn’t changed the Watcher’s mind about Xander at all. Perhaps it was just that losing his virginity and having a more confident step was all that it took to gain the Watcher’s attention. Undoubtedly it was something along that vein. (Certainly it was more than taking away the vampire’s newest toy.)

Not that it mattered anymore.

As mild as his interest had been in the boy before, it raged once he saw where Xander’s wandering eyes were going. It would be all right if NO ONE got the boy, but he’d be damned if he was going to let the vampire get the boy. Soul or no soul, when the undead man started paying attention, the Ripper decided that, yes, he WAS done with the Espresso-club open-mike lonely-hearts men of a certain age. 

Ripper Giles was a Watcher and a passable musician.

Ripper was also an experienced magician.

It was time for Ripper to get some hot young action. 

 

And what Ripper wanted, Ripper took.


	5. What Ripper Got

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Coda to the series "What Ripper Wants"

The feel of those lips parting underneath his tongue, the knowledge that those legs were spreading just for him…..Rupert “Ripper” Giles had been with many lovers in his time, male and female, human and otherwise, but surely nothing had been like this.

It was a little unsettling.

Not unpleasant, just unsettling. There was a lot to get used to.

First there was the constant comparison to Angel…not that the young one was doing it on purpose, but every whisper of “warm, oh god you’re so warm,” and “so hot, it feels like you’re burning me” always reminded him that his lover’s first lover had been a cold vampire. Thus the cool, wet washcloth to stroke the chest while Giles took possession from behind. Thus the ceiling fan on, constantly, until it became a code for "Herewith Follows Sex." Thus the modified spooning position instead of missionary, so as to not overcome his lover with his own body heat.

Then there was the swearing. Giles was no prude, but the things coming out of his young lover’s mouth he had never heard before. Not that he was offended (“oh fuck oh fuck oh god oh JESUSfuck” didn’t sound so offensive when it was followed by “fuck me, oh PLEASE fuck me, oh please, oh please oh…. holy SHIT Giles!”) 

Then there was the volume. He was quite surprised the neighbors hadn’t complained. Of course, other, much more violent yelling had occurred in his apartment that WASN’T so obviously a couple enjoying themselves, violent yelling that occurred when demonic forces attacked, and yet Giles never received a complaint. Possibly because the dapper young landlord had a crush on him? But if the other, single men-of-a-certain-age were disturbed by the cries of passion/various four letter words that were guaranteed to be emanating nightly from his bedroom…..well, maybe they weren’t complaining because they were envious?

Nightly….that was the next thing to get used to. He had brought it upon himself -- setting out to seduce someone under the age of 21 certainly puts a man under certain ...obligations. Mainly: to keep up. Giles was not an old man, nor was he out of shape, but meeting the nightly expectations of his young lover was becoming more and more of a chore.

Who could cling to him so _tightly._ Not that his lover was _clingy_ …..he certainly wouldn’t be able to tolerate that. While Rupert Giles was hardly above rescuing a damsel in distress (for a casual fuck or two) but in the battle of life he preferred a partner who was fighting at his side, not clinging to his arm.

No, his lover wasn’t clingy so much as…...what was a good word for it? Energetic? Enthusiastic? The hands clutching his shoulders when they moved face to face left bruises in the morning. The steel grip of the arms at the moment of climax….

Then there was that mouth, so greedy, so _hungry_. Politely asking for his tongue in a kiss (“so warm”) then sucking vigorously until it was almost painful (“it feels like you’re burning me.”) The greedy hands, the hungry mouth, the strong arms, and…..gods that tight, clinging passage that took him in and didn’t want to let him go…..

It was such a change from the gentlemen-friends he had at the open-mike bar he had frequented for years. The fact that Giles had a full-time hobby that kept him in shape made him quite popular among the older gentlemen that took turns at the mike with their guitars….but even the energetic vampires of Sunnydale were nothing compared to the action his lover wanted in bed, EXPECTED in bed, on a nightly basis.

That summed it up in a nutshell, didn’t it? Loud. Obscene. Overly Energetic. Demanding. Not to mention constantly overheated.

In short, Giles was enjoying his sexual dalliance with one Xander Harris more than he ever thought possible.


End file.
